(TPOR) Chapter 146: A Greater Cause (Patreon)

Zed found himself standing in a dilemma, stuck amidst a few people. He knew his silence would brew questions. If not in Ash, then certainly in Oliver and Shanine. After all, he wasn’t known for his silence.

He watched the last vestige of steam leave his hand, disappear into the dominance of the air around them. When it was completely done, he made his decision. Priorities were always important. It is the very thing by which humans evolve. You do not worry about your thermostat not working when your entire house was about to be set ablaze by an arsonist.

He turned immediately, moved his attention to Trevor even as Shanine opened her mouth to ask what was wrong.

“Do you think Daniel will be in the captain’s room?” he asked immediately, silencing Shanine’s attempt. “And,” he added more aptly, “where is the captain’s room?”

“On the other side of the ship,” Trevor answered, confused by the question. “East wing.”

Zed nodded in gratitude and turned to the exit. He needed to ensure the captain was aware of the situation. How he would explain that he knew of the danger was something he would have to figure out on his way to Daniel. But if the captain would not listen—choose to delay—then he would have to ensure his survival. And how capable are you of surviving out there if you can’t survive in here?

The question was cast aside almost immediately. One worry before the other, he reminded himself.

“Zed,” Oliver called after him. “What’s happening?”

“I need to speak with the captain,” Zed answered, hand on the door’s handle. “It’s urgent.”

“Suddenly?”

Zed schooled his expression, made sure his frown was no longer the dominant expression, then turned to Oliver.

It was the falsest smile he could ever remember having. He oped it sufficed for its purpose. Its purpose being deceit.

“What can I say.” He shrugged easily. “When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go.”

He returned his attention to the door and paused. He turned back to them, unable to help himself.

“Shanine,” he said. “I’ve got a question.”

Still in the holds of her worry, she was quick to answer. “What do you need?”

“Well, you awakened just a few moments ago. You already know how to sense auras—which I’m extremely jealous about, just putting it out there. Do you by any chance know what mana type you may be attuned to?”

Shanine paused thoughtfully. Clearly, she was thinking about it, probably trying to find that sixth sense mages use to connect to mana, surely it would be different for those not yet at the rank of Beta considering they would not yet have a core. Zed wondered at that, he’d never been a mage without a core, did it mean he would not know enough to teach an awakened?

Why? Who said you had to teach her to be a mage? You’ve got more things to worry about.

After a while, Shanine shook her head.

“Sorry,” she said but not in the way of an apology. “I can’t feel anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Everyone had been silent, waiting. Apparently, Zed wasn’t the only one who had been curious, merely the only one who’d remembered to ask.

He waved her answer aside casually. “No worries,” he said, finally opening the door. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out eventually.”

“She’ll need to connect to different mana types first,” Ash said. “Figure out what she’s comfortable with. Use it a lot.”

“I guess so.”

Zed was halfway out the door when Trevor stopped him with his own words.

“If you’re looking for the captain, not the captain’s room, I’d suggest trying the planning halls.”

Zed paused. “What plans are we making?”

“I heard Daniel got a communiquae from HQ. We might be heading off soon.”

Zed smiled. “Even better.”

This made his plan easier.

“And where’s this room where plans are made for the purpose of planning?”

“West wing.”

Zed shook his head. “You’d think they’d keep it close to the captain’s quarters.”

With that, he was gone, the door closing shut behind him.

Trevor turned to the others. “Is he always high?”

“Mages don’t get high,” Oliver said. “As a magical doctor you should know this.”

Trevor opened his mouth, then closed it. “Oh.”

The door cracked open and all of them turned their heads. Zed stuck his head through the small crack.

“First,” he said. “I’d suggest finding a way to wake Chris up. It’s that urgent. Second,” he looked at Shanine, “if you still can’t figure out your mana type and what kind of mage you are, I’d suggest checking the bathrooms. Mages can’t poop but I know there’s a bathroom in this place somewhere. It might help.”

Shanine sighed in exasperation. “I’m not going to be a poop mage, Zed.”

Zed shrugged. “You never know with these things, Chanin. Never say never.”

“For the last time! My name is Shanine!”

Zed was already gone, head vanished and door closed.

Trevor turned to Shanine. “Isn’t that what he said?”

………………………………………

Andker always hated the forest. There were many reasons for it. The insects. The bugs. The birds that never learned to shut up. As a child his father had been big on camping. The outworld, free of technology and people, to be one with nature as humans were designed. An entire load of bullshit.

But those were not the reasons he hated the forest. He’d liked it then, if not for the forest itself then because it was time he spent alone with his father, his sister’s constant desire to intrude on the male bond absent as she could not stand the forest. Those were days he could endure anything. Days when he had his father all to himself.

He wasn’t a terrible brother, far from it. It loved his sister, cared for her, perhaps even spoiled her just as terribly as his father had. But as a boy he always had that slight craving to have his father’s undivided attention, as all boys do. He didn’t know how it was with boys that had brothers, but he’d had no brothers, his father was the only other male bound to him by blood. To say very little of it, Andker adored his father. He held that little touch of fear and respect that made up the soup of admiration.

So he took any love he could get with his father, coddled it and bound it to him like a witch doctor binds themselves to an eerie pact.

Why he hated the forest was for reasons that were different. Reasons that strangled him like a bondage mate that didn’t know the first thing about safe words.

“What are we doing now, Ker?”

Andker held back a sigh at Zero’s words. Zero was a smallish man with one blind eye, a long jaw and a single dimple on his left cheek. Despite how long his face was, it still somehow managed to be square. Also, Zero was not his name, never had been. According to stories, the man had changed it when the second awakening had happened. He got powers, learned them up to the peak of the awakening rank but could never bring himself to cross over to the rank of Beta.

“Ker?”

Andker turned to face his one of many companions. He set his back against the hard bark of the large brown tree and lowered himself to a squat. Around them the forest was bright and quiet. The trees were massive and the leaves abounded in colors both natural and unnatural. The mana surge had once been here, its mana absorbed by the trees in someway rather than being dissipated into the air to fuel the ambient mana as was the normal order of mana surges. This had led to a significant lack of ambient mana in this forest.

Something different happened with this surge, he thought, even as he wondered at how best to answer Zero.

“We’ve got to get a move on, Ker,” Zero said, voice impatient. “The Olympians have the surge, they could be gone before we even know it. The boss won’t like that.”

“The boss,” Andker said, voice wistful.

He never understood why Zero liked calling their leader that. It made them sound like some nineties gang that never really expanded into something truly lucrative. And even if the gang did, it made them sound like low level grunts not worth the gang’s time. Andker never really worried about it enough to point it out to the man. After all, the alternative wasn’t any less dramatic.

“Can’t believe a man calls himself, One Above,” he muttered under his breath. He sounded like a cliché comic book villain.

“Careful, Ker,” Zero warned. “Never a good thing to make fun of the boss.”

“Never a good thing to make fun of anyone, Zero.”

Andker looked up at the leaves of the tree above him, bountiful and colorful. It was too unnatural but he knew his father would’ve loved them. He closed his eyes and inhaled a silent breath. The time for reminiscing was over. It was time to move.

“Alright,” he said to Zero. “We’ve got men stationed in all the right places. We’ve been waiting to strike the moment their ship comes on but they’re stalling.”

“Waiting for reinforcements?” Zero asked.

Andker shook his head. “Possible but unlikely. If they are, it won’t be from any group worth anything. The only mages around are pretty harmless. We’ve got that town down east. And the one that threw that get-together should be lacking significant fire power so I doubt they’d be of much help. How many girls did we rescue from the party?”

“Fifteen children in all.”

“What of the four that ran?”

“We found two. The other two are in the wind.”

Andker nodded sagely. It had been a while since that operation. They had lost men to it. Three casualties in all. It wasn’t that he tried to ignore it or anything like that. He simply couldn’t bring himself to care for the little things. The minute knowledge he had of the operation was that they’d lost four men, used an unnecessary number of explosives, wasted a lot of rune bullets—which were already difficult to come by—and saved a lot of children who had been used for foul purposes. The ones they’d rescued at the time had already been sent of, moved on to what should be a better place. No, they were not dead.

“What’s up with the two we found?” he asked Zero, though his mind was elsewhere, uncaring of this little bit of information, conversation for the sake of conversation. “Where are they?”

“Where is she,” Zero corrected.

That got a reaction out of Andker. He paid more attention now. “She?”

“Yeah. We found two but one of them was dead. I think some mage got to her before we found her.”

Andker’s eyes narrowed. Suspicions danced in his head like strippers in clubs, seductive yet elusive. Not to be touched. He knew the men he ran with. They bound together for a greater cause than themselves, but he knew them. Their cause was righteous, right, good. But that was the only thing about them he’d stake his pride on that held those qualities. They as individuals were of varying kinds. Zero had killed a man once for reasons Andker still didn’t know. And while he’d liked to believe those reasons must have justified the crime, there was merely something about Zero’s constant impatience that had him believing otherwise.

Andker cast the worry aside, refused to dwell on it. The girl’s death was a tragedy. Trying to deduce what had caused it would be a distraction. Nothing more.

He raised his hand, checked his watch. The band of clear silver had once been heavy on his hand in a time before magic. It showed him that evening was on its way, time ticking by slowly but inevitably.

Patience was his virtue, but sometimes it strangled him as it did now. He let out a deep sigh. Time was going. At any moment, the Olympians could decide to take off. The information he had claimed they would not be leaving soon, but he couldn’t trust it entirely, couldn’t bet his team on it. Still…

“How long before they’re done setting up?” he asked Zero.

“What does your time say there?” Zero asked. He reached forward and peered at the watch then paused. “Your watch’s not working, Ker.”

“How long before they’re done?” Andker repeated.

“A few more hours. Should be up and running before it gets dark.”

Andker frowned slightly. Just a little longer, he thought. A little longer, and I can go home.

With a tired mind and a body fit and willing to move on for days, he pushed himself to his feet. Zero stood up after him, now quiet.

“Let’s get this over with,” Andker told his companion.

Zero nodded. “Let’s.”

Then each man turned to their sides and picked up their shields. Each shield was square and large with a slight, intentional curve. On the top right of them was an inscription that hurt them to look at. But their job wasn’t to look at it so it mattered not.

Andker tested the weight of his shield and found it present. He always wondered if the rune gave weight to the shield but had never met anyone with enough knowledge to give him the truth. It was always possible that there was something in the making of the shield that gave it it’s weight.

Like most other things in Andker’s life, that too didn’t matter. With riot shield in hand, he walked out from behind the tree and towards his mission.